Page 81 of The Reno
If he wanted direct, he’d get direct.
“I felt awkward about the kiss situation. And what I said after meeting Yasmin and Abigail. I didn’t know what to say. Well, actually, I did know what I wanted to say.” I exhaled, preparing my speech. “I’m really, really sorry about what I said this morning. I was a total bitch, and I really shouldn’t have brought all my baggage into this. And I’m also sorry for the drunken kiss—that was a moment of true insanity that I don’t think I will ever live down in my whole life. Like full-body cringing forever.
“So you hid.”
“What? Did you hear what I just said?”
“I heard you. I just want to understand why you hid rather than saying that to me.”
“I was being a chicken.” I threw my hands up. “A big fucking chicken.”
He nodded. “Okay.”
“Okay?”
“If you need to hide for a while, that’s fine. But let me know when you need space. I was worried. I didn’t like it.” His eyes searched mine in a way that made my throat tighten.
“Okay. I will,” I said, dumbfounded.
Liam nodded and slid the toasty out of the pan onto my plate, all crunchy yet gooey. I bit into it, tasting the sharpness of the cheddar cheese followed by the smoky, spicy taste of the nduja. It was a perfect midnight snack.
“Do you want some?” I asked around a mouthful.
Liam’s lips twitched. “No, I’m fine, Red.” He moved closer as I finished my last few bites. “Did you eat today?” His eyes were roaming mine like he was looking for the answer in my skin or the colour of my eyes. I smelt cedar again, and I wanted to rub my head into his hoodie like a fucking cat.
Ugh, so pathetic.
This was a full-blown crush, and I felt utterly out of control. And I had enough I needed to control—for example, myself.
“Hmm?” Liam asked expectantly. Right. He’d asked a question.
“Ah—no.” I racked my brain. “I don’t think so. I had a coffee with Lydia today.”
Liam tutted. Actually tutted.
Was that hot? Did I want him to tut at me again?
Is that what he would be like in bed? Demanding, coaching, and maybe a little stern. Would he guide my hands to places he wanted them? Would he place my hand in his hair as he—
“Don’t look at me like that, Red,” Liam said, his eyes darkened. “Or I’m—no, we’re—going to do something you’ll regret in the morning.”
“What—what do you mean?”
“You know what I mean.” Liam stepped forward, taking the plate from my hands, his warm hands lingering on mine. His thighs brushed mine as he leaned forward.
“Oranges,” he murmured near my hair. “That smell has been driving me insane. At work and then at home, too.”
“Has it?” I asked in a voice that sounded soforeign.
I craned my neck up to look at him. His eyes were tracking mine, gazing into me like he was trying to read me. I glanced down at his lips. They looked so full and soft. Liam’s hand reached up to hold my jaw.
“This okay?” he murmured.
“Yes.”
He leaned down and ran his nose along my neck, making me arch into the touch. This—this was incredible. Liam hummed appreciatively and kissed my neck right where it was sensitive. I gasped at the contact. It was such a soft, delicate kiss, but my body did not register it as soft or delicate. It was burning up from the inside, white-hot.
“You make the sounds I imagined, too,” he said so quietly I could have missed it. My hands reached his biceps to pull him towards me. I needed more of him.
